Sunday, December 18, 2011

As 'Salina says, it is New Years Eve Eve today - and we were hit with the hard question of "when we were going to let her stay up until" - which I know is gramatically incorrect in so many ways, but then, look at her mother.

We have answered in stellar parental style "we will discuss and see".

The discussion in my head thinks that it may be a good idea to link it to the year in which she can engage in family activities such as washing-up or folding without prompting from adults. he he he - never one to discount an opportunity for a little honest bribery. V will probably be thinking along the lines of when she can vote. I am hoping mine comes through for her first.

Since last we met (well, since last I wrote), we have

celebrated Paris' birthday,

nursed ear infections,

endured Christmas (Bush Babe paints a beautiful Christmas shared - be thankful there wasn't sound, because she would have had to dub certain sections consisting entirely of screams from where I was sitting - one New Years Resolution is to slowly widen Paris social circle and acceptance of groups in her "zone"),

enjoyed moments of familial togetherness,

gardened,

demolished old garden beds,

rejoiced in Paris returning to a semblance of good humour,

beached (another New Years Resolution does contain something about blubber proportions in there),

ate (yeah, about that Resolution - note the term "New Year"?) and

discovered Doc Martin (well, we already had discovered, more like we devoured it - got Series 1 for Christmas then purchased Series 2 and 3 on the flimsy pretext of an early V birthday present).

We are all looking forward to a 2012 and the unwritten pages waiting for us to write across them.

Friday, December 02, 2011

It is the former, and as to the latter - howling a gale outside, which is a change from the stillness and heat that were November's colours.

I now have a daughter twixt childhood and primary school, and teenagerhood and secondary school.

I just bundled her off to her Nana's for the weekend, before a week of action packed adventure at her aunt's place

I also have a daughter firmly addicted to Hi-5 - in fact, this is firmly entwined in EVERYONE'S subconscious here:

Having all of 'Salina's old videos is truly paying off - not to say anything about the new cast members, I have been assured they are excellent (and get a run if Paris' requirements meet their scheduled time slot), however should the Hi-5 shout be made at any other time, we have stock!!

There was a moratorium on the instituting the new Christmas legislation at our house - I have always been a Grinch, with a blanket "no Yuletide trimmings (including the singing of carols) before December 1" law in place, but V finally has the numbers in the lower house to institute change - unfortunately, change keeps getting thrown at our house and the first day he could hook in with his co-horts and add a bit of tinsel and flash was not until last Friday - which was indeed, the 2nd.

Ah well, we have been told 2012 will be a year of turmoil - it may actually be our house getting its act together EARLY.

On that note, I have actually been proactive about the whole Christmas card project that has been mooted every year - right up to the point of purchasing some cards and stamps - so this year I didn't need to do that, just actually write, and believe I am now 8% into it - we have high hopes of that number rising and surpassing any previous records!

Otherwise - work is going well (except for that whole thinking that the Christmas dinner for my beautiful little community organisation job on the 8th of December was somehow going to happen when 'Salina's School Concert was on the 8th of December - right up until the 5th of December I somehow thought they were separate nights!)

Technology is working against us - analog television finally switched off this week, and after spending over $500 ensuring that we would get digital signal reliably for the majority of the time, the first night something went awry with our remote control and our television watching future looked like it would be one channel only, and peering around a large "Programs have changed. Do you want to rescan. Ok for yes, Exit for no" sign. For some reason, there is no Ok or Exit button on the box itself, and so we know that one day V's efforts with the emery board on the remote control may not be enough - luckily they were this time around. Of the 5 days since we have had Digital signal only, we have had a 20% success rate of signal being unaffected by the weather...

Do you remember the saga of my car stereo? Well, there is progress. Another speaker is working!!! Unfortunately, the only sound it makes is large pops and whizzes which Paris finds rather disconcerting, so it is conversation only available when she is in the car - which is great for her language development and working quite well for our understanding capabilities also. When she is not in the car, I do attempt to listen to the radio, but while one speaker has regained life (however ineffectively), the "good" speaker now has a mind of its own and I get edited highlights only, with the "not so good" speaker adding emphasis - so I get a lot of meditation done also.

The microwave died yesterday. One of the upsides of combining two adult's households is often you end up with 2 microwaves, and so when mine died 3 years ago we didn't need to contemplate buying a new one. One of the downsides of combining two adult's households is often the 2 microwaves you have are getting on in work hours, and V's microwave decided that yesterday would be a great day to curl its toes.

The oven still works though - and just as well, as I have two very keen bakers on my hands:

Other than that - well, in 10 days it is Paris' birthday, in 2 weeks it is Christmas - which means I really should buy some presents and get myself organised soon!

Saturday, November 26, 2011

As you know, I am an early bird - not always by choice, and sometimes much earlier than would be ideal, but this morning I slept in until 6.30am.

I love those mornings when I wake up first.

Before Paris utters her "morning" with her big grin and "sleep well" and starts telling me which of her numerous stuffed toys shared her cot as she hands them out - although it is hard to knock Green Teddy, Blue Teddy, Puppy and Baba off the charts.

I am always EXTRA careful when I fill the jug and get my ingredients together as her bedroom is next to the kitchen, and it doesn't seem to take too much once the sun is up and the birds are squarking.

Before 'Salina starts hacking.

She has had a persistant cough for a few weeks. That is nothing new. The only sort of cough she ever seems to get is of the persistant variety.

Three years ago, she was so sick from it we even went to get a nose swab to see if it was Whooping Cough. According to that test, she wasn't - but if you ever wanted to torture a child, I now know how.

Two years ago, she was pretty sick from it and we now have a wide selection of "try this" courtesy of several doctor visits, pharmacy assistants and our main medical source of information, my mum (trust me, most of the area I come from considers her their main medical source - and awesome pharmacist who may not always remember where the Christmas decorations are, but can pronounce and know what those long words at the side of every one of them mean).

Last year, the same.

This year - well, I was slack this year, because I bypassed the several doctor appointments route and went straight for the medley of elixirs we have used in the past. As she had camp, I did go and get them all labelled by the local pharmacies. As she got worse two nights before camp I did seriously contemplate ruining her primary school ending and keep her home, but she improved and I let her go. The report when she got home was she was fine except for the last night. Since she got back, not so much, so I finally put on my good mother hat and took her to the doctor. Doctor mentioned that Whooping Cough was back (which we had read in the school newsletter) and not to rely on the immunity of "ten years after vaccines". We went and got blood and, what hey? Shut the stable door, she has Whooping Cough.

Worst mother in the world award right there.

So she needs her sleep. In her sleep, she isn't coughing.

I love listening to the fans and the birds and the waves and the silence as I have my first cup of tea.

I occasionally have a second at lunch, but the first of the day must always be tea. My father is a great believer in that strategy. Do you know, he has been married to my mother for over 45 years and always takes one in to her when he gets up? She doesn't get to it when it is hot, which is no doubt her long-marriage strategy.

I do drink coffee - that is reserved for the second cup, the cup when I first get in to work (sometimes they are the same thing)...

Must go - I hear a "mummy, mummy" from Paris' room, so time to go and do a soft toy stocktake.

Wednesday, November 09, 2011

Just dusting up around here and look at this, I have a blog. I used to love it and tend it with care, but now it lives most of the time covered with weeds and morning glory pretending to be beans - oh sorry, the metaphorical analogy with my garden just took over...

So, 1023 days in and what has happened?

Well, just before it kicked off, I went with my sister, her kids and Paris to a family gathering - I learned

I have a wonderful sister (I learn that often);

I have a verbose family (like that is a surprise);

Paris does warm up eventually with familiar faces (and surprised us all by voluntarily seeking Nana's lap - although she may have worked out Nana had fish on her plate and Paris LOVES fish); and

car journeys with a back row of little ones are doable for several hours, but hell if you go over that threshhold by an hour or two

'Salina had a very important social engagement to attend that weekend (some 12 year olds have weekend sleepover parties for about a dozen of their nearest and dearest, and she was nearest and dearest enough with this particular birthday girl that she was included in the organising committee, apparently) and so V had to hold the fort with Eddie - I don't think he was too put out with the solitude.

While not traditional in Australia, having US connections means that we do Halloween adventures - with excellent Halloween costumes courtesy of Gramberta.

V took 'Salina and a friend trick or treating, while Paris and I stayed home and played in "mines room".

'Salina was a Zombie (its funny, the photos of pre-teen Zombies never turn out quite as cute as little pumpkins) and her friend appeared to have been dragged through the bushes backwards.

I myself was dressed as a grumpy mother - but the time one-on-one with Paris in "mines room" went a long way to iron the grump away.

Along came November

On the 3rd, there was a very important event to celebrate... ... and we inched that bit closer to having a teenager in our house.

'Salina had a week at school camp and came back about two years older.

Paris is twenty-three months old now, and can jump, tantrum and make jokes. She still has a passion for "mine's room" but now Summer is upon us, swimming is a new favourite.

Not much of a post - I am afraid that life is just flashing by at the moment, with occasional "pin down and do"s going on here and there, but with work and V's study and the last weeks of primary school and just plain growing up going on, it is far too busy yet mundane to grasp the moments and reflect - which is what I plan to do once I have worked out how to compartmentalise the busyness of it all!!!

Sunday, October 16, 2011

Not because it is traumatic, but because on the scale of prompt blogging, I would be way down the bottom - buried in the mud.

Therefore I will edit a bit, and I will just hit publish when the big girl gets home from school - its to dig myself out of the mud (and to get that whole "unedited post at the top of your list = another day when I haven't got around to ticking it off the list" feeling out) (even though its not on my list for today) (I don't have a list for today) (which might be the problem).

Anyhow, Today isSunday was a much anticipated day here in Paradise.

It iswas the day where we loselost an office - but gained a "big girl".The day where we lose a roommate - and gain privacy.

The day where we

get rid of skanky old furniture that was useful but not loved

discover we have absolutely NO STORAGE except said skanky furniture

find that we STILL can't find the phone we lost months ago

box up/move existing boxes of office stuff to that corner of the verandah that was our office storage unit last time we did this for months

vacuum and vacuum and vacuum

find stuff that hasn't been used for years and make HARD decisions

(got sick of all that formatting)

It has now been 5 whole days of "mines room", and I would have to declare the adventure totally successful. The day starts with a little "'ood morning" from Paris, and then, with an added note of wonder "mines room" - this phrase then gets used about 1000 times before bed time, always with the note of wonder and joy.

As to our room - well, let me just say it is VERY nice to not have to share it with anyone other than V. The office space is lovely too - so sparse and clean.

Our front verandah, however? Well, lets just say that storage is on the "list of things to contemplate" over the next little while.

Saturday, September 17, 2011

Today is the beginning of the school holidays. yay. Or in 'Salina's view - YAY!!!

Today marks the beginning of hours and days of endless nothing having to be done and taking your time doing it - in 'Salina's world.

Unfortunately, it doesn't mean hours and days of endless nothing for me to fit in some special time with her - it is juggling my schedule so that V doesn't end up with too much quality time with a passel of various children eroding his serenity and 'Salina doesn't end up with too much being dumped on other people.

Luckily, I have a family (hi BB) who fall into a whole category of their own, where they manage to turn the concept of "being dumped on" into "enhanced opportunities" and often get to fill quite a bit of the holiday dance card with taking advantage of dumping the opportunities presented.

Tonight falls into yet another category, other people hitting the "help, I have discovered I have a social engagement when family of our own are not available for dumping assistance" wall and remembering a throwaway line many moons ago from older child's best friend's parent concerning enhanced opportunities - or maybe even a sleepover.

L (the friend and older sister) and F (younger brother) will be staying with us THE WHOLE NIGHT - something that hasn't happened with any of 'Salina's friends since we discovered mould in the blow-up mattress (and therefore since the adventure of tear in the blow-up mattress while trying to get rid of the mould) and while the concept is thrilling in anticipation (especially as the repair kit seems to be holding on the mattress), there is also a little bit of terror involved.

Terror Alert Level 1 - L has had issues with us in the past. She is a delightful child, don't get me wrong - just delightful in a "Straight A Report Card, Champion in Every Sport, School Captain" way, which is very freaking confronting when you figure that on a good day you can scrape a B on being a friend's parent. The issue was when she called us on it (not really - she told us about the straight A (and ancilllary comment of "Delightful") while we were waiting for Parent/Teacher to discuss other letters of the alphabet and ancillary comment of "enigma").

Terror Alert Level 2 - F is a 9 year old boy. I remember 9 - 9 was okay when 'Salina was there. But the boy bit? While I know some children in that category (hi there Dash), I don't really do boys all that well. Something about them scares me. Like spiders. They appear unpredictable. Like spiders. I am sure he will be fine. If I say it often and confidently, I will overcome the fear, won't I?

Terror Alert Level 3 - Dinner. I told 'Salina to workshop what they wanted and get back to me. They all love Enchiladas. Yay!!! I love Enchiladas (as can be ascertained by our Wedding Night Feast here) I can do enchiladas. My MIL (hi there Gramberta) even told me how to do it San Diego style. San Diego is really close to Mexico (much closer than Paradise), so its really nearly authentic. Well, as really nearly authentic as you can get IF you have the ingredients. Here in Paradise, the true ingredients are a myriad of substitutes*, and I hope that I can get as close to San Diego as I can, so I can be really almost nearly authentic.

Terror Alert Level 3 - Addendum A - Really almost nearly authentic may not wash, as their mother is Brazilian. Now, I know you are all (well both) thinking "So" (or even " Não percebo!"), but there is no doubt a hierarchy of Mexican authenticity, and I am sure that Paradise enchiladas interpreted through Brazilian influences probably rates higher than Paradise enchiladas interpreted through San Diego via Central Queensland gringo (and I am pretty sure that those last three words bear the greatest impact in the slide).

Terror Alert Level 3 - Addendum B - I turned to Google to see if I could reconstruct what Gramberta told me what to do without having to rely too heavily on my memory, due to the fact that my memory at the time was tinged with "living with a 4 month old" and there are bits I rock at, and bits where I bite. They all mention ingredients I don't have. Most mention ingredients I can't get. Some mention stuff that makes me think "why doesn't Paradise have a decent Deli?". A few mention preparation that should have taken place a few hours ago.

Terror Alert Level 4 - Bed time. With strange children. Strange as in not usual in our home, rather than the truly unusual. Judging from what I think I know of the parents, I would assume similar strictness to the regime in operation here - but it is holidays, it is a sleepover AND there is a Football Semi-Final on tonight that F has been trained to be an avid watcher of (as is V)... Add 2 11/12 year old girls watching movies in the next room and a nearly 21 month old baby young lady, and it may be terrifyingly flexible.

Terror Alert Level 5 - the above-mentioned Football Semi-Final. Maybe perhaps the last game for the Broncos (and the soon to be immortal Darren Lockyer) - and I can assure you, I haven't done everything I could have to help them over the line which is scary. (As is the fact that I should have, whether it be for a football game or not.) (Or even visitors or not).

The above was written hours ago.

Before dinner time. They all ate - to varying degrees. It was deemed "yummy" although apparently they don't really like spices (hard to dodge in Mexican food), rice or vegetables that have been messed with too much (luckily I had an unmessed tomato to offer - visitors can verify we can be quite terrifying ourselves in our obsession that those under the age of 13 are required to eat a quota of vegetables or berries/fruit/herbs/plantlike things that imitate them).

Before bedtime. Which went amazingly smoothly. Still firmly planting one limb on wood about that one.

Before the morning. Which it still is. And which I must go forth and prepare for in my bed - because as sure as the sun rises in the east, so do my children (and, from the mouths of the visitors, they LOVE waking up early).

* Remind me to tell you one day how to do Smoked Paprika Chicken WITHOUT Smoked Paprika.

Friday, August 12, 2011

Friday is my day with Paris, so obviously it involves shopping (the grocery kind) which means doing the budget (I like to keep the keel upright) but then I remembered, just as I saddled the computer for a little number wrangling that my sister made a promise on my behalf - and it may be slightly more fun than trying to make the red go away.

I have been a very busy little indian over here and seriously need to sort out my Wednesday priorities, because we had another fail at the whole "me" time concept. Had I done that, perhaps we would have had this post a little earlier!

Still, Friday is Friday, and a whole day away from Saturday (heck, weeks away from September even).

The first part of my title - Pride - is truly for 'Salina though. On Monday she was presented with Student of the Week for her class - but the bit that really puffed my chest was why. Apparently, 'Salina is "always helpful and considerate of others!" I already knew that, but it is great that it is recognised by her teacher. She often gets daughter of the moment by being kind to her little sister, and letting her play in the Schleich pit!

I have always been a fairly big fan, of course, but since being a big sister she has truly blossomed. I do fear the teen years, but as I have always said, she is pretty good clay.

She has little fans too!

Our celebration of her prize was rather muted by being in the emergency department of the local hospital. V did have a rather sore leg when we left (for our weekend to the abovementioned sister's place) but, rather than being on the mend it was worse when we returned - and a day of toddler wrangling had brought him to his knees (figuratively - the one in question wasn't up to bending that well) and he had visions of a possible transition to mono-leggedness - and anticipating the relief that would bring.

Luckily, it turns out that he had aggravated a Baker's Cyst, and when you google there are whole websites dedicated to this little curiosity (and many panaceas) - and he had a classic case. Unfortunately, when you google the symptoms, there are far more onerous things than Baker's Cyst on the first few pages, so a great deal of relief here.

And pigtails?

Well...

Ta da!!! Of course, we have now broken the pigtail charm, and all I have received is "noooo" to the suggestion of pigtails since this photo shoot!!

Wednesday, July 27, 2011

I have jigged around my work days - crammed all of my official "work" hours into 3 days. This means instead of me being out of the house for 4 full days (I always ended up running around and not getting home ever before 4.30pm) I am home after 5.30pm on those 3 days, but on one day of the week - Wednesday - I can do "me" stuff.

I know. What a horrible mother. Making my day for "me" a childcare day... Still, I have a 100% Paris-friendly Friday (used to be Monday), and the real bonus is a one (or two) on one afternoon a week for 'Salina.

I find sometimes I miss her the most.

The first week that I undertook such a Wednesday was last week. I had plans. The sewing machine my mother had bought for my birthday (I know - spoilt AS!!! Thanks Mum!) had not been removed from the box and taken for a spin, and that is exactly what a (relatively) child-free "me" day calls for.

Unfortunately, one of my jobs is a small role with a community group - and trying to get input and information from a committee of volunteers (and extremely busy people in real life) can be a juggling act, and half of my Wednesday - and most importantly the afternoon section starring 'Salina - was stripped away.

That meant that last week, I spent a few quality hours going through all of my sewing stuff (over 10 years of "what I used to be" thrust into boxes for when I got the time) and a short half-hour fixing 3 skirts and expanding (at least the bottom half) of my wardrobe 100%.

This week, I was really REALLY determined to have a "me" day. Well, I was determined to a point - because I realise that the concept of "me" must include all of the paperwork detrius that has started to weigh upon my psyche (at least that part that is counting on a decent tax return to tick a few things off the list) and so today - I tidied the office (with nary a football team to prosper by it).

As V is using the spare room/office for his study at the moment (even as I type), I brought all of the boxes that my office had been stuffed into about 2 years ago, when we rearranged the house for the advent of a baby in our lives...

I took photos of that - you'll see them if I have time to download them (I am all about time and motion today).

I threw out whole swathes of "why the heck did I keep that". Do you know that I finally bit the bullet and binned 69 floppy disks. I don't have access to a computer that would take them, and even if that were possible, I finally erred on the side of "no" when I asked myself if I really NEEDED 7 boot and 4 rescue disks for operating systems that were obsolete. I even agreed that is was possible that neither I nor anyone else would really want to look back upon assignments and notes from Tafe courses I studied a few years ago.

(Okay, I did keep 7 - but they have important stuff like my poetry on them).

I also put together all of the "I can't part with this due to sentimentality" into only a few boxes and put them up into that cupboard that has room. I know, a little bit moving the deckchairs, but it takes a while for me to let go of stuff - just ask V.

By lunchtime, I realised that the job I had undertaken was a 2-parter, and it would be better to succeed at the first (which I had, thank you very much) and fill the remaining hours with

pegging clothes,

printing a few photos for a few frames found and deserving of being used - a task I never REALLY seem to get around to (obviously, its not genetic),

transfer all the information from an dead computer's hard drive to a new external drive in case I need any of the files, and

blog

Sure beats going through the paperwork that precipitated the original task!! Oh well, there is always next week...

Finally, I will leave you with 2 things - a question: - what do you do on "me" days? - and a rant - from 13.5 years ago. I was so arty, it really did start mid-sentence.

Diary entry –

Saturday 28th (February, 1998)… ex-wife don’t get on, and now I know WHY” scene most often ends this merry-go-round.

I believe in being upfront and honest when entering new Love’s domain. This includes “I’ve got a kid”, “I’m only in town for another month” (and “I am not married”), “Let’s see what happens and…” (sorry about harping on about the state – recurring nightmare).

But, hey, there comes a point when a girl can dream – share a bed; breakfast together – alone; the next twenty years; matching plots – okay, I never go that far. But the fertile plains of the imagination are never dormant – unless blighted.

Even the most simple girl like me has her fantasies.

To be allowed to wallow in those fields is the most forbidden luxury… unlessI’m talking about a certain commitment, men. A sort of right here, right now – a decision. Shall we cut the safety ropes together and push offshore?

And then, the stupid bastards run, don’t they? Dust. Cut out impressions on the door. Maybe it’s the delivery?

Boom. Back to the caves and rocks, and I go back to the mill. Churn out another bastard poem.

Sunday, July 17, 2011

Well, nothing really, because I just dyed away all visible evidence of the month that was!!

Oh, I slay myself.

Anyway, update from us is not much to blog about.

We went on holidays (and actually was PAID during that time for the first time in 18 years - the joy of being a permanent rather than casual employee). Of course,I did ensure I got approval for holidays by promising to be back at work for one day in the middle to pay everyone. So my 2 weeks holidays was actually 2 blocks of 6 days...

For our first block of 6, we had to wait a day for 'Salina to finish school, so with the day travel there and the day travel back, we had 3 days in Brisbane. In the intial planning stages there was an original intent of running around like mad things trying to catch up with everyone. Luckily (?!) I was not organised as I would have wished, and therefore we had a leisurely catch up with only a few very special people.

The second break saw us travel to visit various members of my family (including my sister). It was great to spend a longer time with them rather than a weekend, as it allowed Paris time to actually thaw and interact (with most).

Paris is a rather shy creature, startled by sudden movements and overt displays of tomfoolery. In fact, even the catching of the eye will result in her defensive posture - assume the invisibility cloak and melt into the shoulder of whoever she is being held by (or has been begged to hold her).

It was actually a relief that both our Brisbane "family" and those related by blood got time to witness that she does indeed make sound (and some of it is very intelligible) and is an interactive - if extremely wary - toddler.

Since being back, I have been immersed in work and the garden - since the very wet Summer we had when our vegetable gardens slid into what we referred to as "Lake Paradise", the yard has been a wasteland of neglect. Many hours and a few sore muscles later, it is now a wasteland of attention, with piles of dirt awaiting redistribution once we work out where a vegetable patch or two may be most viable. We do have some rather grand plans, just awaiting a few grand resources to plant them.

I don't talk a great deal about work on here - and that is because long diatribes get edited. And then edited a bit more.

Monday, June 13, 2011

Every time we thought the sun was out to stay - the clouds would come and threaten.

Hence we were cooped - especially when both girls have annoying coughs and the rain from the day before meant a very wet yard.

That didn't hinder all activity, however.

I pat myself on the back for ticking one large box of complete rearrangement of the spare room so I can contemplate my sewing piles and access the machine.

V employed a hammer very effectively, and we now have rope under the house AND 'Salina has 3 things hanging ON her walls rather than propped.

Not only is the floor now devoid of those 3 things, but 'Salina even got her room into that mythical space of "being proud of it" for a few minutes in a row!

And Paris? Well, she loved the freedom of finding the spare room's true space and it is rumoured that she is scoping it for her bedroom sometime in Spring.

But what about the ducks?

Well, we love the ducks here, as they are easy to recognize (important with a toddler), easy to imitate (see earlier note) and don't mind a bit of grazing in the parkland near to our house and viewable from our windows.

Yesterday there were many ducks. This story would no doubt have been more accessible with a photo or two, but I hand it to you, dear readers, that your minds are able to click a few images as I regale.

Two doors down from us is a crossroads with a little bridge. Across from us is park. Yesterday there were many ducks, so many that there was a large mob on the flat farther along the road, a middling mob across the flood drain and a small mob across the road near the crossroads.

"Look" I shouted out to my family (because although the distances within the house are small, the walls are ingeneously placed so the only method of communication between rooms - other than the logical walking three steps to a doorway - is to yell. Well, that is my story).

"Look," I shouted. "Look at all the ducks".

Unfortunately when I went out to the balcony, I noticed another natural development that was not so cute. Two 12 year old boys (and I know they were around 12, as at least 1 of them is in 'Salina's year at school) had delayed their scooting on our side of the little bridge and were THROWING ROCKS at the ducks.

"Oi" I yelled (even louder than the internal shout). "That's not very smart."

They did hear me - one paused, the other seemed to think that being dumb was reason enough to continue with his stupidity.

V came out to the balcony and, with full boom, emitted "BOOOOOOOO. BOOOOOOOOO."

Magically, the boys dropped rocks, grabbed vehicles and scooted the heck out of dodge.

Epilogue OneLate in the afternoon, it was noticed the same two boys slowly dawdling along the road. Funnily enough, they hopped on their scooters and were rather quick in passing our house. I don't particularly mind being "the crazy folk", especially in the eyes of adolescent boys - we shall continue use the power for good.

Epilogue TwoWhile flicking around during an ad break last night, we caught some of a Gorilla documentary.

In hushed tones, we were advised that one particular gorilla was "an adolescent now, and probably looking for trouble".

We laughed at the parallels with great apes and rock-throwing boys.

What are your tips (apart from terrorising fowl foul youths) to get through those not quite rainy/not quite hale days?

Sunday, May 29, 2011

Oh my goodness - I thought it had been a little while since I had blogged, but it has been BIG while, hasn't it?

It just seems my free time in front of this thing is about nada - most mornings I am up and out of the house by 7.30am, my getting back time until flop time is fairly filled with activities around getting the girls fed, clothed, clean and cosy.

I do, on occasion, check one or two blogs - with comments these days I am very slack!! Generally, though, I try to spend a bit of time with V or just collapse.

Mind you, we have had time to all come down with gastro a short while ago - and I am planning on having a holiday from work when school holidays come around in four weeks (my first PAID holiday since 1992 - woo hoo) and actually doing fun stuff with my family.

Wednesday, May 04, 2011

Ah, and I truly wish that it was of the creative and bloggity blog variety...

It may well be I will get my sewing groove back next week when my beautiful mother comes to visit and find my birthday present with me.

And one day I will get my beauty queen groove back, because my sister gave me some Pamper Yourself (with a facial and a pedicure) vouchers for the same occasion (it a few weeks ago - I snuck it by).

But I can assure you that the cranky-butt induced-by-bureacracy groove got a great workout yesterday...

Let me set the scene.

Recently, we have had a spate of Public Holidays - which is actually relevant to the story.

On the Tuesday post the long long weekend held for my birthday containing both Easter and Anzac Day, I discovered that the biggest bureacracy in the country (known hereabouts as "The Evil Empire") wanted to see a document, and by the tone of the letter, they wanted to see it NOW. Of course, NOW is relative, as it had been sent by the office in the nearest town via an office in Sydney, and dated just prior to the long long weekend - so 5 days of my "NOW" deadline was already in the gray.

So they wanted to see it very soon - and given that I have several jobs that pay by the hour (and bosses that want me to work the hours I am slated to do) PLUS another long weekend shoving all of my slated hours into continuous slog during all of their opening hours, I had to delay my fulfilment of their demand until yesterday when I could spare a half hour between jobs.

One of the problems with going in to the offices of EE is the congregation of other patrons who brings out the hidden snob within me (and possibly of us all). I am sure if there was a one-way mirror opportunity there would be HOURS of fun in just looking at the masses and working out who was there due to bad luck, who was there because due to circumstance and who was there as a career path... Unfortunately they haven't yet tapped into the money making opportunity such voyeurism offers, and therefore they seek fun in putting stressed cranky cows into the mix.

Another of the downsides is there is always a queue. It seemed innocuous - there were only about 7 people between the end and the other end when I was directed to join it and there were 2 people serving. Logically, that should inspire hope - unfortunately, logic (and indeed hope) are not options that were budgeted...

While the 7 people inching encrutiatingly towards the end goal were an irritation, the folk being funnelled into the line behind me were - well, let me just say that had the queue been a dark alley, I would have looked around for the cast of CSI to join us...

How long should it take 2 people to serve 7 people, do you think?

No, I wouldn't have thought over half an hour either - by which time, my allotted "between 2 jobs" free time was fast running through the glass - but I was at the head of the line (which now contained over 20 people to my rear) - and so it was with a degree of joy that I greeted the counter clerk with a hale "hooray, lucky this is an easy job - per the letter, here is the document, take your copy and I will begone in a jiffy" - well, I may not have used those EXACT words, but be assured, my greeting was upbeat and perhaps a contrast to the atmosphere.

It was obvious from the outset that such an attitude created quite some confusion with the clerk, and it seemed to the detriment of the whole process - so used to a snarl and a thrust of problems, she decided that the situation needed a few problems inserted into it.

"You need to take a seat over there and wait for someone to see you." she told me.

Now, I have been reading for a few years now, and nowhere in the missive I had been posted did it say "come in and we will waste your time for you" - had it done so, I would have wasted a few hours (possibly paid - I can multi-skill, especially when all but 5 minutes of that time would be on hold) to their call centre and made an appointment - because that is what people do when they don't have time to waste.

I told her no - it may be that I said it in a tone that she was more comfortable with, rather than the joviality that had set her astir in the first place - but she was not to be appeased.

On the letter, there was an option of sending the document to the office that I was standing in, so I asked if it were possible then to do this? Unfortunately I had stirred the power-dragon of bureacracy concealed within her meek demeanour, and set upon wasting my precious moments was she and denied that the letter would allow her to use such an initiative.

At an impasse, a passing clerk offered the alternative of giving me an envelope so that I could post the document to them - which was found and passed over to me with a dismissive gesture.

Now the truly curious thing? The envelope (reply paid - thank you EE) was addressed to a different address to the office I had been in - indeed, it was not even the office that had passed the letter through to me, but a third.

But you know what? I got them in the end. Oh yes, I had to write a cover letter for it - and I am the Queen of Passive Aggressive letter writers.

Friday, April 22, 2011

I am shocking at keeping records on when my second child did anything.

Mainly, I think, because this time around there is another responsible parent around and I figure I did it for the first, it is his job for the second.

That, and my memory just isn't the fireproof-safe it once upon a time was.

So when V asked me tonight "when did Paris first walk", my "umm, around 14 months" wasn't that convincing (especially when I have been claiming her as 16 months for about 8 weeks now - my maths works best in metric and these darned 12 month years trip me up).

However - however, I have sat down with all fingers and toes and worked out that she is FINALLY 16 months old (and 1 day) which, ironically, is EXACTLY the same age as 'Salina was when she was flowergirl at her aunt's wedding.

Of course, that would be a much better comparison if I actually had any photos on my computer of the occasion so you could see the huge difference between the two at that age - but alas, not to be (and while I could go into the office/junk room, hook up the computer to the printer, grab the photo off the dressing table, scan the photo and upload it, we are one day into a 5 day weekend here, and the sloth has set in) so you will have to wait.

"She is not just the best mare in the world, she is not just the best horse in Australia, she is not even just the best sprinter - she is the Best Horse in the World!!" he exalted. "She is the Best Horse in the World as voted by her peers!!"

I think he might have overstepped on that last remark.

Anyone else now got the image of hooves being pushed on buttons worldwide stuck in their minds?

Thursday, March 31, 2011

There are moments in life where you get to look at something you have done and think "well done".

I had one of those this morning.

After a rough night with Paris (sore tummy) and a bit of broken sleep, my daylight alarm failed to go off yet again (can't rely on it these days) and so I was woken with an "expletive deleted, its 7.20" and as I tend to leave for work at 7.25, it was a very quick exit from the bed.

While still contemplating the shortcuts to my morning routine that such a start warranted, I entered the kitchen.

'Salina was already there. She was dressed in her uniform and had a big smile on her face.

"Hi Mum" she greeted me. "I have made your lunch for you - do you want tea or coffee in this cup" and that feeling of absolute pride overcame me.

Thursday, March 24, 2011

Just read the last post, omit the "won lotto" bit and add car bill - or three.

It seems when you fix the bit that made it stop at busy intersections, it allows the problem that makes it stop while you are driving along come to the fore.

And when you fix the bit that makes it stop while you are driving along, you find another bit that could be the cause, and another bit that could be a byproduct, and another bit that's just plain scary - apparently.

Me and cars - my ears glaze and my eyes roll dollar bill signs.

I have made the mechanic PROMISE that the bits being fixed would not end up costing more than the value of the vehicle. I have been down that particular road more than once, and it is incredibly painful.

I will find out the value of that word tomorrow.

Let us just say that castles in the air are currently being reviewed and rehoused in storage.

Or...

From a different perspective, had we not had the windfall, those castles would have been demolished because I would have had to mine my security blanket - so its all good.

We have health, we have sunshine (yay - third day of a heatwave in fact), we have enough food, we have shelter, we have fantastic family on both sides and we are blessed with many friends.

We even have enough work and therefore income for my little personal economic empire here to weather relatively rough weather and keep us afloat for a few months ahead.

While I don't have Pollyanna sitting on my shoulder, I do still count my blessings and come out well and truly more than breaking even.

And hey - maybe a sunny weekend ahead will tip the balance into Pollyanna being in my court again soon.

Saturday, March 19, 2011

This week started with rain - it is hardly surprising, really, as we have had 4 days of sunshine this year (okay, maybe I exaggerate - but no more than 5 since school went back in January).

It is a fitting background for the week.

This week was one of those weeks where you learn lessons.

I am still unsure as to the lesson I am meant to take away.

Help me...

This week started with rain - rain, and a windfall on Lotto. Not quite a "$20 million dollars" with appropriate echo noises and ridiculous people screaming, but enough of a windfall for us all to form dreams.

Well, actually, very much not even a windfall for full blown dreams that begin with "when we win lotto", and not even as much of a windfall as my boss one-upped me with when I mentioned the figure we were excited about, but hey - it beats the "woo hoo, we won $10" I yell when I forget to put lotto in.

Anyhoo, our bathroom requires some serious immediate attention. I don't know whether it is weather or not, but the tiles are leaving the walls at an alarmingly increasing rate; some water-based activity partaken within leaves puddle clues below - although not regular enough to go "way-hey, there is the problem" with any laserlike intensity; and a slow-drip (which has been rewashered on more than one occasion to the tunes of what sound like sea-shanties - at least in language levels) in the vanity has at last shown its true potential, and we have a cavity beneath our vanity that you could lose a small child in (if we were to ever let a small child wander in - we don't).

Our minds lit up with our windfall potential marrying with the bathroom concepts, and while the windfall = a very small percentage of what a proper bathroom renovation might entail, we began to actually forsee an improper bathroom renovation - or at least, the bones of one.

We have a list, we have a plan in our mind's eye, we have a purpose - and we have a seedling to grow into crossing "bathroom renovation" right off the list.

In the same breath (if the mind were to breathe - what time device should be used for the brain?), our minds also began to see other things that our windfall could achieve.

My sewing machine died last year. The bed is on its last legs. 'Salina is growing too fast. Paris is growing too fast. My workplace deserves to see me in a more varied wardrobe. With better shoes. V's vehicle's driver's door needs repairing. We need a holiday. Haircuts. Heck, we could even think about take-away...

It almost got too much to contemplate. Suddenly we were spending money in our minds far quicker than we could ever win it!!

Luckily at this point, fate stepped in with one spectacularly crappy Friday.

Paris was in a "I need to cling to the nearest parent and whimper" mood that can only accompany teething. Luckily for her (and me), I don't work on Friday mornings so we got to bond.

With such a sad situation, we didn't get to go and do our fortnightly Friday socialising with the local ABA - and nor did we get to do the alter-fortnightly Friday grocery shop en famille.

Instead, V was sent out into the pouring rain to gather the vittles.

Paris eventually succumbed to slumber (and good drugs) and I hooked into the mountain of paperwork that I imagine I can do on a Friday morning, and had 25 minutes of such entertainment when V arrived home with the goods, and the school called.

It seemed 'Salina had apparently fainted in the playground at morning tea, and now had a headache and they were sending her home if we could please come and collect. The phone call woke Paris.

So - clingy baby, sick older sister, soaking and half a kitchen of groceries, I kissed V goodbye so I could get to work.

Truthfully, I was not altogether unhappy to go to work. See above. That, and I had a few major tasks to accomplish while at work, so if I got in a half hour early, I would have plenty to fill the time. All I needed to do was grab lunch on the way there...

Now, last time I got (well, admitted to) junk food for lunch, I ended up an hour in the drive-through due to a stalled engine. Therefore, this time around I went to a competitor.

Since that last fateful time, the engine has stalled on one other occasion (amidst a lot of traffic at a busy intersection) but it has also been serviced.

Apparently not well enough, because this time the car stalled again in the drive-through. I have learned since the last two times, however, and managed to hold my mouth right to restart and get out of there (before requiring an RACQ man to come and have the engine start with no problem).

That is okay, I thought to myself, I can drop the car to the mechanic and still get to work in time. Therefore, I decided to eat the junkfood on the way there rather than do so in the lunchroom.

Mistake number 2.

Just before I got to the mechanics, I noticed the junkfood had left a long slick of red and yellow sauces on my white blouse.

Plan C was to duck into a shopping centre, get a new shirt, take the car to the mechanic and get to work. I could still do it in the timeframe.

That is without factoring in the next stall. Or the next one...

Eventually I did follow through with Plan C - although the timeframe was blown out of the water.

So, when we tell our grandchildren about the time we won lotto, we shall look fondly at one another and reminisce about all of the things we COULD have done - instead of what a good portion of it ended up covering, and my goodness, I have hidden the rest away in a very dark corner to hopefully procreate and seed the dream of the renovation.

Sometime.

On a positive note, Friday was the sixth (or was it seventh) dry day this year.

Saturday, February 26, 2011

When 'Salina was a baby, I met a woman who has been an extra-special friend to me ever since. At the time, she gave me a line I often quote.

THE DEFINITION OF HELL IS TEENAGERS AND TODDLERS IN THE SAME HOUSE

Obviously, I forgot this principle when going for the second-time-around motherhood lark, and while we aren't there yet, the threat is looming.

Right now, however, I still advise everyone I meet that the ideal age gap for siblings is 10 years.

When 'Salina first met V, she asked "are you going to marry my mum and give me a baby sister? I think her name should be Ella."

Fairly confronting to a new boyfriend, hey?

Anyhow, after a few years, a wedding and a settling in where V and she developed a great relationship, her question lay idle.

When we finally did get the wheels in motion for such a possibility, 'Salina was very non-plussed. She had grown used to having two adults orbiting her star, and the potentiate of a new baby sister (or brother) was not to be contemplated. "Stop talking about it" she requested during gestation.

Her holdout lasted about 0 seconds once she laid eyes on Paris.

Every time Paris lays eyes on her big sister, she yells out in delight and waves hands and blows kisses. School mornings are not complete without a traditional front door vigil while 'Salina waits for the bus, the afternoons are a great reunion of long lost friends.

And while 'Salina lives in this limbo of not-quite child, not-yet adolescent, she is delighting in her little sister and her development. She is the first to hold her hand out to help her walk. They talk and play and laugh together - and we don't take enough photos of the joy.

We occasionally see clouds of impending teenagehood - and while we know it is unavoidable, we also know how truly terrible we were as teenagers - and hope to goodness 'Salina is not that bad.

We also get glimpses of the dawning of terrible toddlerdom - and I have memories of where 'Salina frayed during her first coming of age.

But right now - right now, we are nowhere near the hell that could be imagined, and we are very, very glad.

Wednesday, February 09, 2011

Two weeks ago, Paris did not go to Childcare because - well, I have attempted several times to say it nicely, but there aren't many ways to say "she was a snotty nosed kid".

She only (theoretically) goes two days a week, which is V's two days to get some more study under his belt.

I say theoretically, because by being well enough to go to Childcare last week, she was set to bring her attendance rate up to about 50% for the year.

We (especially V) did a little jig last week when she was well enough to attend. Especially V, because he is at crunch time for his study.

Last Wednesday, I went to collect Paris after work. I don't often get this privelege - it is a task that V and 'Salina tend to bags, mainly because I get home late and they are fretting.

However, due to homework and assignments and me getting an early(ish) card, I got the guernsey.

When I got into her room, she was resting and didn't notice me. Her clothes had been changed, and when I grabbed her bag I saw her old clothes were covered in something yellow. She then noticed me and burst into tears, pleading "bap! bap!" (my sole purpose in her life on occasion, I think) so she and I made a fast getaway.

That evening, we noticed that she looked a little sunburned.

The next day we were sure she had been burned a little by the sun, as it only appeared on her arms from where a t-shirt would have covered down, plus a little at the neckline.

The next evening, we changed our home diagnosis to perhaps being wiped down with something she reacted to, as the "sunburn" was getting a little splotchy.

By Friday, I was worried enough to make a doctor's appointment and call the centre for some background on what may have set off an allergic reaction. I was advised that yellow jelly had been the substance on her clothes, and she had been wiped down with wipes. They also mentioned another child had come down with a rash and was going to the doctor as it looked viral.

The doctor advised that the rash wasn't acting like any viral rash (only on arms, top of one leg and the front of the neck) and it was most likely an allergy.

When I told her I was going to my sister's on the weekend, she told me to have fun, don't worry, and the rash should go away.

Saturday, the rash hadn't gone away but it wasn't bothering her and my sister had a Jeanie-shaped hole in her book-keeping.

My sister reminded me that she was allergic to Dettol and had reacted so badly she ended up blistered - and 'lo, it was true that Paris' spots were starting to blister.

By Sunday evening when we arrived back home, the spots were all turning to blisters, and the clear skin on her legs and lower back were turning to spots, and I thought it might be prudent for another visit to the good doctor and a call to the childcare centre for more indepth information about the wipes.

It appears the wipes were a new brand they didn't regularly use - and as we only use fragrance-free ones or chux it was a possibility.

The doctor mentioned words like "mystery" and called in her colleague, who agreed he had never seen anything quite like it.

On our way to get blood tests and swabs, I rang the childcare centre again to tell them there may be a mystery virus and enquire what the other child was diagnosed with - to be told that TWO children had diagnosed rashes in that room - one with Chickenpox, one with Hand, Foot and Mouth Disease. Nice.

So another phone call to my sister to tell her I have potentially exposed her and her family to highly contagious viruses. Yay.

Have I mentioned how loud and piercing Paris' yell can be? Try that in an echo chamber of a pathology room with two women, a large needle and some vials.

Yesterday, the blisters all turned to scabs, the spots all turned to blisters - and other than the discomfort of trying to crawl on blistered knees, she was fairly fine.

Monday, January 31, 2011

I think the head of programming at Network Ten is a psychopath (either that, or the minion in charge of placement of my favourite program is!).

After 4 series of stuffing us around (See here for the backstory), (Series 1 was stuffed around by another Network), we are in the home stretch of the final series.

We thought the Network couldn't stuff us around any more.

We were wrong.

They lulled us into a false sense of complacency by putting it on regularly on a Monday evening for several weeks in a row. Then they took it off the air - rumours were that they were keeping it for the ratings period, and so we wouldn't see it during the December/Janury holidays.

Then they put a double episode on Christmas night.

The week between Christmas and New Year, they scheduled it every single night - and showed it.

The week after New Year, they scheduled it every single night - and didn't show it.

The next week they didn't schedule it. Last week they scheduled it for two nights - and showed it once.

There are people who look forward to this bit of sunshine in their viewing calendar, and who valiantly stay up until the 10.30 timeslot they believe it warrants only to find they were just jerking us around - again.

And last Friday, after again believing it might be possible they again kyboshed our wishes - and I realised.

There is someone in Ten who is messing with our minds.

Allegedly it is on again on Friday - but that is no guarantee.

My life is work and volunteering and being a mum and more work and occasional online relaxtion options - obviously not much blogging in front of the computers these days - and I really like my fix of Outrageous when I am promised such treats.

I think it cruel that they keep toying with me.

I even rang them and spoke to Jess about the situation. Before she hung up on me, she told me the reason they put it on so late was due to the content (it is up there - but then, they have kid killing on all the cop shows at 8.30 and I find that far more revolting) and the few who watch are staunch supporters (we have to be) but too few to be any influence (possibly because of the way they are treated).

I am nearing the end of my tether with them - if they don't show it this Friday, I am going to bite the bullet and do something that I have never yet done.

I am going to buy the series before it is finished showing on the local station from overseas. I am going to make their asterix * that little bit smaller and I am going to increase the NZ GDP.

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

It appears that the weather gods (or even the big G himself) has shaken a fair bit of our Sunshine state hard. (Its okay - I talk to God pretty regular these days, and I think s/he chuckles at my little jokes).

Each day, you think "oh no" and feel for those bearing the latest - and then find that the latest is not yet the worst. I hope to goodness it now is...

All of this water has not affected us directly - indirectly, yes, but we are safe, we have shelter, we have food.

The main impact on our lives really is that currently I am seriously over-employed. Normally, I work 20 hours a week at one of my workplaces. I agreed to work the first week back (last week) as skeleton crew so that the other two administration ladies could take pre-booked family holidays.

We-ell - their holidays have extended to waiting for floodwaters to recede and roads to be driveable - and I have discovered what they do all day!!

Therefore, V has had to be not only househusband, but househusband tethered to the home all day every day, kid-wrangling and keeping the washing at bay.

'Salina has gone back to Granite Glen for a few days - her posterior was requested atop a saddle, although reports are that her horse's posterior got a little too close to the waterline today!

There is no bread on any of the supermarket shelves - nor is there milk, hardly any meat and sparse produce. Facebook is doing a roaring trade in photos and swapping bakery tips.

My thoughts and prayers are going out the those to the South, to the North and to the West of us - some are still surrounded by water very slowly receding, some are in shock at their lives being turned upside-down - and some are watching the wall of water coming closer to their record books.

Our receptionist is discovering just how hospitable a small inland town called Goomeri is. She (and her husband, teenage daughters and excess teenagers they were carting) has gotten to know it very well over the last 5 days.

Can you believe parts of WA is suffering bushfires and drought? If only we could pipe some over... NSW, Victoria, South Australia and Tasmania are meant to be inheriting some of this rain system over the next week - I hope to goodness that it becomes far more civilised as it moves South.

Right now, I am signing off. I am switching off the 24 hour news we are getting on the television and putting on the Outrageous Fortune episode we taped last night - futile plea to Network Ten to consider the fans of great television and not give us feast/famine of such programming so late at night.

It is my hubby's birthday (mmmmmwwwwwwwaaaaahhhhh), and while I could not get buns for his requested birthday dinner he did get ice-cream - so I am going to share some.